


Old MacDonald

by Fiorenza_a



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiorenza_a/pseuds/Fiorenza_a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/><br/>Illya was sitting on the floor of Napoleon's apartment, cross legged and absorbed in the jigsaw puzzle he had discovered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old MacDonald

 

Illya was sitting on the floor, cross legged and absorbed in the jigsaw puzzle he had discovered in one of Napoleon's cupboards. The thing was missing at least ten pieces but it had been a childhood favourite and Napoleon had never been quite able to discard it. It had languished in the dark confines of Napoleon's closets for decades, until Illya had found it and brought it into the light. Now he sat, glass of vodka at his knee, patiently fitting each remaining piece into its rightful place.

The lighting was soft, not the seductive gloom Napoleon favoured when he had designs on the putative virtue of his women, but something which engendered relaxation and bonhomie nonetheless.

''It's supposed to be Old MacDonald's Farm'' Napoleon said ''I've a feeling it may be lacking a little livestock these days.''

''It was yours'' replied Illya, without lifting his head ''it enables me to share a little of your childhood.''

Intrigued, but fearful of spooking his partner into a Siberian silence, Napoleon asked carefully ''Is that important to you, Illya?''

Illya turned from the puzzle to fix him with uncertain blue eyes ''I don't know how you grew up Napoleon. I have nothing upon which to build an understanding and I want to understand you better than I do. It would improve our efficiency as a team. I would make fewer mistakes.''

''Mistakes, Illya? No one is infallible, but I'd say you come as near as any man has a right to.''

Illya dipped his head and blushed delicately ''I do my best Napoleon, but I am perhaps prone to too many failings.''

''They don't show my friend'' answered Napoleon with sincere affection ''but why now? Why this sudden need to fathom depths you have always been content to leave uncharted? Has something happened?''

Illya looked at him unhappily ''I...The other night...'' he began and then foundered helplessly on his own reserve ''It is a personal matter Napoleon. I am your partner and, I have come to hope, your friend.''

''You don't need to hope Illya, you're closer to me than any man I've known.''

That seemed to give the Russian the impetus he needed. ''Please believe me, it was not my intention to pry into your affairs'' Illya halted abruptly, looking as if he wished the ground would open up and swallow him ''forgive me Napoleon, a crass choice of words.''

''Illya, just what are you having so much difficulty saying?''

''The other night, in the hotel. Before we flew home. It was late, you hadn't returned to our room as expected, I became concerned, so I went in search of you. The terrace was deserted, but you were there, in the shadows and you...I saw you Napoleon...you were kissing another man.''

''Ah'' responded Napoleon cautiously ''and you find that distasteful?''

''It was a risk, even in such isolated territory, an unnecessary risk, and I am your partner. I knew what you had been through and yet I failed to see...failed to anticipate...forgive me Napoleon, I should have made clear...I...'' Illya took a deep steadying breath ''Do you want me Napoleon?''

''Do I want...?'' Napoleon's world tipped gently on its axis ''Illya, are you saying you are willing...you'd not be repelled by...you've actually thought about us together in that way?''

In answer Illya solemnly rose to his feet and slipped off his jacket, loosening his tie and pulling it free of his neck, then he unbuttoned his shirt. He'd stripped to his waist before Napoleon regained his senses and caught the Russian's hands as they worked at his belt buckle.

''Illya, are you sure? This could change everything between us.''

The Russian looked at him with longsuffering patience, responding with leaden resignation ''I will be in the bedroom when you are ready Napoleon'' before moving across the room, pulling his belt free as he did so.

Napoleon hesitated and then followed his partner into the bedroom. Illya lay waiting for him against the pillows, a naked receptive body and expressionless blue eyes.

Seduced by the surreal unreality of it all, Napoleon sat on the edge of the bed and allowed fingers intoxicated by the desire to arouse trace a path down Illya's torso. Illya obediently spread his legs as Napoleon's hand moved below his navel. ''Are you sure this is what you want, Illya?''

''I have not done this for some time Napoleon, I am uncertain how my body will react.''

''How does it normally react?''

''I have bled. Please do not be alarmed if I bleed with you, it has never affected my efficiency and, if required, I will be discreet in seeking the appropriate medical attention.''

''Illya, I'm not making you bleed. I'll make sure I don't hurt you.''

''As you wish Napoleon, however such restraint is not necessary, this is the first time I have been called upon to service a fellow officer since coming to America, but I believe I remain equal to any demand. Do as you need.''

Jolted from the dream by the Russian's schooled subservience Napoleon snatched his hand away and stood up, the sacred pyre of a long restrained lust suddenly nothing but a wasteland of bitter ashes. ''Illya, this is not a requirement of the job. Do you want to be here?''

Illya sat up looking concerned ''Have I done something amiss Napoleon? Is there some other way you want me? I will do whatever you need me to do.''

Napoleon brought a hand to Illya's face to caress the worried features ''I need you to want this Illya, truly to want it.''

''Have I failed to please you?''

''Illya, what do you want? Truly want?''

''I want to please you.''

''And for yourself Illya, what do you want for yourself?''

Illya studied his partner for a long assessing moment and then said ''I prefer not to be hurt, Napoleon. I prefer to have some say in when it will happen. I prefer not to be shared. I prefer not to be watched.''

''Illya, have you ever done this because you wanted to?''

''Once. A long time ago. I thought he might come back to me, but he was killed. I don't know if there ever would have been more than there was, but it makes a nice dream when I have someone else inside me. I doubt I would have survived the Colonel without such a dream.''

''This Colonel, is he the reason for that list of preferences?''

''He made me his whore, Napoleon. He was proud of me. Of the things he trained me to endure. Then he made a present of me so that I might endure them from others. I've known for a long time that it wouldn't be that way with you. You needn't take any more risks. You won't be disappointed, it was a conscientious tutelage, I will do whatever you need me to do, satisfy any desire.'' Illya captured the hand still caressing his face and, unfurling the fingers, pulled Napoleon forward to place it between his legs, leaning back in order to facilitate the unconditional exploitation of his body.

Instincts rebelling, Napoleon tugged his hand away. ''Illya, this is not what I want. Man or woman, I don't take what is not freely given. There's no pleasure for me in coercion.''

Illya raised a sardonic eyebrow ''You think that silver tongue of yours never coerces a consent, how many nervous virgins have you deflowered?''

''This may surprise you, my oh so sceptical partner, but the only nervous virgin was me. I've always played the game with veteran hearts, even that first time'' Napoleon stopped and smiled a wry little smile, amending with a soft voiced nostalgia ''both first times. I don't toy with people who don't know the rules and I won't play this game Illya, not by any rules. I want you, but not like this. I'm a greedy man, I want more than the gift of your body.''

''I don't understand.''

''I know you don't and it would break a million hearts. Is that the reason for your reticence with the fairer sex?''

''I am not reticent Napoleon, I simply pale by comparison'' an impish gleam flickered hesitantly in the dead blue eyes.

''By any comparison, my friend'' accused Napoleon fondly. ''Are women a duty too?''

Illya dropped his head a little ''I found men first, but I do enjoy the...shall we say 'company'?...of women.''

''We may say 'company' and I believe that's the first time I've ever heard you admit to _enjoying_ it.''

''A little mystery is beneficial in any relationship'' countered Illya.

''Wisdom of the East, or of the West?'' Napoleon challenged in his turn.

''Wisdom has no borders'' replied Illya, for a moment sounding almost recognisably and unbiddably himself, albeit a naked and disturbingly enticing version of himself.

''And if I kissed you now? Could you enjoy that?''

Illya's eyes immediately dulled and his body surrendered.

''No Illya, not like that. I want you with me, if we do this.'' Illya looked lost. Napoleon moved in and stole a kiss from unresponsive lips ''Well that's an encouraging sign'' observed the American, against expectation.

''I'm sorry Napoleon, I'm not sure what you want.''

''So I see and therefore I got something of you. A promising start. Didn't any of the others want to kiss you?''

''I had no choices Napoleon, some kissed me, some didn't, my consent was irrelevant, my obedience expected. The Colonel made compliance a matter of survival. I learned not to disappoint.''

''I've never understood men who have so little pride. How can the victory have any sweetness when the game is rigged?''

''It wasn't only men, Napoleon. My duty was to perform as required, for whoever I was told required it. I only made the mistake of failing to appear sufficiently compliant once, at the hands of a woman. It seems I can be very backward in taking instruction, it took the Colonel a week to teach me how to demonstrate an appropriate willingness. Then he gave me back to the woman, so he could entertain himself watching as she indulged both her displeasure and her perversions.''

''How can you be so loyal to a country which so abused you?''

''The Colonel had no orders, such a man could exist here, too powerful to challenge. In your country it is the status conferred by wealth and renown which purchases such impunity, in mine it is the patronage of ideology, the result is the same. Would you disown your country if you became ensnared by such a man?''

''No, I suppose not, but you have to admit, it leaves us with one hell of a problem.''

''Again I fail to understand Napoleon. You want me, I have not objected. What more is required?'' Illya's gaze faltered as a shameful comprehension dawned ''Ah...I see, of course, I have been very stupid. How could you want me after what I have just told you?''

''You understand, Illya? My reservations? After listening to that? Anyone's reservations?''

''Of course, Napoleon. How could you? I have been too used. I understand.''

''Oh for...Illya, if that's what you understood, then you understood nothing. Can't you see? How can I believe you truly want this when you have been so brutally programmed? How can _you_ be sure...?''

''I do not feel sick.''

''What?''

''With the others, before I had to...Every time Napoleon, so sick. I buried it, but it was always there. I can still taste it. I hated them, I hated myself, but most of all, I hated the Colonel. Whatever they did to me, whatever I was expected to do to them, it was always his face I saw. His face, as it was in the week he taught me, I had the lesson after the first three days, but he kept on teaching...and then learning it again and again, with whoever he gave me to, until I wasn't able...not for myself...unable to want...'' Illya's eyes were bright with pain and defiant, unshedable tears.

''You couldn't have sex?''

''You're not listening Napoleon. I could have sex, all kinds of sex, the Colonel was a deviant and I was a signal of his favour, it was considered impolitic to be unimaginative, but I couldn't...couldn't...I can't...''

''Make love?'' Napoleon supplied with tender insight.

Illya dropped his head and shook dishevelled locks, replying almost on a whisper ''Not until U.N.C.L.E., and not for so long afterwards, and then always like this...I'm a Russian patriot, no one cared if it wasn't me...if I was too docile...whether I felt...''

''Safe?''

The mop of blonde hair nodded and then rose slowly, hesitantly; hopeful blue eyes meeting the depthless, molasses dark warmth of Napoleon's gaze.

''And now, Illya? How do you feel now? Do you want to be here?'' repeated Napoleon softly.

''I want to please you, Napoleon.''

''And if we take it as read that you do? Nothing more required, a true friend and a trusted partner? What then Illya, what do you want for yourself?''

A coy smile formed below shy blue eyes ''I want to learn how to please you, is that acceptable, Napoleon?''

Napoleon touched his lips to the blonde fringed forehead and murmured ''There would be one condition, my ever surprising friend.''

Illya's eyes dimmed slightly with the solemnity of his reply ''Of course Napoleon, whatever you require.''

Napoleon's lips twitched into a smile of his own ''Then Illya, I require that you allow me to please you in return. Partners remember? We're in this together my friend, so I expect you to do your share, this for instance'' Napoleon's hand made a swift return journey to encourage Illya's burgeoning arousal ''would this be...how did you put it?...Ah yes, would this be...acceptable?''

Illya's startled answering hiccough was suffused with a very un-Russian giddiness.

''And this, would this be...acceptable?'' breathed Napoleon as his hand worked a more intense magic.

''Please Napoleon, it has been a while, I'm not...If you keep doing that...I can't...I won't be able to stop myself...''

''What, this?'' enquired Napoleon, talented fingers continuing a remorseless manipulation and unrepentant lips teasing an earlobe.

Illya gasped and writhed like a landed fish under Napoleon's skilful onslaught ''Napoleon, please...I'm going to...I...I can't think in English.''

''Good, you shouldn't be thinking at all'' admonished Napoleon as he drove Illya into a sudden convulsive release.

Flushed and breathless, Illya brought dopey eyes full of chagrin to meet Napoleon's ''I'm a little out of practice, my control is not what it has been.''

Napoleon brushed wisps of perspiration dampened hair from Illya's eyes ''I've been told practice makes perfect. I never believe anything I haven't tested for myself, how much practice do you think you could stand?''

''Get yourself out of that overpriced and probably ruined bourgeois suit and I will show you.''

''Now that sounds like my Russian.''

''I am not your Russian, I was long since annexed by my state and subsequently by U.N.C.L.E., I am already taken.''

Napoleon eased his warm and rapidly more than suitless frame onto the bed and against Illya. He brought a fingertip to Illya's face and allowed it to trace a line along the length of Illya's nose, until it caught in the Russian's lips, as he said ''I'm sorry to hear that because I had plans to take you myself.''

Illya was good, Illya was very good, and now Napoleon knew why, but he also knew Illya. Knew him in ways perhaps more intimate than the physical and he felt it, the infinitesimal flinch at his words, invisible to anyone else, Illya steeling himself. And so he waited, waited for this first test of the tacitly promised honesty to reveal what it may.

Illya nibbled on the invading fingertip and then unexpectedly rolled until he had Napoleon beneath him. Supporting his weight on his arms, Illya gently lowered himself, the fretful anticipation of protest obvious behind his questing eyes as he brought himself to lay the length of Napoleon's body. Illya was heavier than the women Napoleon bedded, and heavier than he looked, but the crush of him aroused Napoleon in ways he had rarely felt before. He wrapped strong arms around his pitiably abused partner and asked ''Now you have me where you want me, what do you propose to do with me?''

A wicked grin curved the Russian's lips and he began to slide down Napoleon, taking no care whatsoever to consider the aphrodisiac provocation of the manoeuvre and nipping and kissing as he went. By the time Illya arrived at his destination the American was straining in readiness. The first touch of soft lips against firm flesh electrified Napoleon. Other lips had touched him, other lips had excited him, but none of them had been Illya.

These were the lips he had imagined in countless lonely fantasies, had closed his eyes as other lips had closed around him and allowed himself to see that blonde head where it was now, to imagine the feel of that tongue caressing him as it did now, teasing him, pleasing him, a wet and mobile warmth, an agony of ecstasy wrought by an unobtainable dream. A merciless angel taking him to a divine destruction. When he came, because finally, miraculously, this was Illya, it stole his breath and laid waste to his soul, washing away all that had gone before until only the sweet clarity of his joy remained.

Illya had devoured the milky fruit of his labours and Napoleon pulled the Russian into his arms, dreamily sated but unsettled. ''Be honest with me Illya, is that really what you wanted?''

Illya nuzzled into his neck ''I wanted to please you.''

''I know you did, but did it please you?''

''It did when you came, I've been wondering what that would look like.''

''And how did it look?''

Illya pulled his head up to look into Napoleon's eyes ''Like I'd like to see it again'' then he giggled ''I sound like a smitten schoolgirl, clearly I have not fully recovered my command of English, I am sure there is a more lucid manner of expressing the sentiment.''

Napoleon regarded this youthfully frivolous version of his often taciturn partner with fond curiosity. That Illya had this in him he had never doubted, that he would ever do more than occasionally glimpse it in the Russian's sometimes Byzantine thought processes and rare unfathomable whimsy, had seemed unthinkable. But then this had been unthinkable. Illya in his arms for reasons other than fidelity or injury, had been unthinkable. That Illya would cease his verbal teasing and use his acerbically multilingual tongue in a mute and subtle torture until Napoleon had spilled incoherently into his quixotically venomous mouth, was unthinkable. ''And you're being honest with me, Illya? It was all pleasure? You have no...regrets?''

''What is it that so concerns you, Napoleon?''

''I'm concerned that you might have been trying to please me at an unacceptable cost. That you got caught in memories I'd gladly give what's left of my soul to see you escape.''

Illya smiled ''It was honestly what I wanted Napoleon, all of it, to have something of you inside me, no memories and no regrets'' his smile faded as he added soberly ''but it may be some time before I'm ready for anything more. Do you understand what I'm saying? Can you live with that? Because if you can't, please understand, I will do whatever you need me to, but I'm not as strong as I once was and I wasn't trained to give more than my body, there may be limits to my endurance.''

''Illya, that kind of strength is a poison, I'd have you lose all of it. Weren't you listening? I already have enough, a true friend and a trusted partner, nothing more required.'' Napoleon touched another kiss to the pensive brow ''You have given me more than I thought possible. More than I thought you could. You have given me yourself in every way but this and now, tonight, you have given me even that. I can wait for as long as it takes for you to be ready, a lifetime if necessary. Two.'' Napoleon nuzzled into Illya's unruly hair; the only foe which had defeated the Russian across two continents. ''I think you've missed something important in all of this, Illya.''

''I bow to what is unquestionably your expertise in this field, Napoleon.''

''That does not sound like a compliment, my friend.''

''English is not my native tongue.''

''You are fortunate, partner of mine, that I am still feeling so very well disposed towards your native tongue'' replied Napoleon, still unashamedly distracted by the feel of an unfettered male coiffure. The women of his acquaintance sculpted their locks with an invisible scaffold of pins and lotions. Even his own was dressed and potioned. Illya embraced the new aesthetic more from practicality than a nuanced regard for the vagaries of fashion, but the result was the same. Napoleon briefly wondered how Illya might take to his testing these new waters with one of the more trendsetting lovelies of U.N.C.L.E.'s Napoleon Solo Appreciation Society. The Russian's scientific curiosity might be peaked by a trichological examination of the variance between genders, on the other hand he had seen the Russian snap a man's neck with far less provocation. Napoleon sighed and abandoned forever any thought of attempting such an exploration, every new path closing as many doors as it opened, as he continued ''You have not considered that it might be important to me to please you. That this is two way traffic.''

''I have considered it, Napoleon.''

''And what did that smart little Russian brain of yours come up with? Did it consider that I might want to make you happy? That love might play a part in all of this?''

''I have suspected that you might care for me for some time. Certainly some of the more foolish risks you have taken on my behalf would suggest a certain concern for my welfare.''

''Not just concern, Illya.''

''But love is another matter, Napoleon. It manifests itself in many forms. A man might love a partner as a friend, a compatriot, a brother.''

''I cannot claim to be your compatriot, Illya'' replied Napoleon, allowing his fingers free rein with the hair which had so captivated them, before continuing with a wry smile ''and after tonight I believe decency demands I disclaim any form of brotherly love, but whatever happens between us, my friend, you will always have that, my love as a friend. Is this why you've never said anything? Given me any kind of hint?''

''Napoleon, you are an idiot. I have not been above hinting, but such subtleties are lost on a dunderhead American.''

''Well then, make it plain for this dunderhead American, do you think you could learn to love me, not just make love to me, exquisite though I now know that experience to be, but actually learn to love me?''

''No Napoleon, I'm afraid the time for that has passed, it is no longer possible for me to learn to love you.''

Napoleon's eyes filled with an empathetic sadness, revealing a heart too world weary even for this disappointment to have any piquancy. ''The Colonel, will he always be such a shadow? Can you never be free? If you think you can learn to want me, truly to want me, to make love to you, couldn't you...isn't there any hope? Can't I even have that, Illya? Hope?''

''There is always hope Napoleon, but I cannot learn to love you because my heart was lost to you so long ago I have forgotten it was ever mine. I would have to learn how _not_ to love you, in order to learn how to love you all over again.''

Belying his stoic attempt at levity, Napoleon's voice was near breaking when he next spoke ''That all sounds very Russian. Would you need to throw yourself under a train?''

''Only if Mr Waverly ordered it.''

''I'm not so sure the Old Man wouldn't order it, if we don't give him plausible deniability, should any of this come to public attention.''

''He is lamentably lax in his scrutiny of the private lives of his agents. I have noticed a distressing tendency to ask only those questions which can be answered without controversy.''

''A tragic flaw in an otherwise omniscient leader'' agreed Napoleon tenderly, eyes soft with longing, and more noble sentiments, roaming the compact form in his arms.

''I may tell him you said that.''

''I may leave you to THRUSH the next time they take an interest in your delectable hide.''

''Napoleon, what will you do with the jigsaw?''

''I'll do what I've always done with it, pack it away and put it back on its shelf, why?''

''It is a very inefficient farm, not collectivised.''

''It's also missing at least two sheep and a goat, if memory serves.''

''And Mrs MacDonald's feet.''

''And thereby hangs a tale.''

''I should like to hear it, one day.''

''I should like to tell it to you, one day.''

''Napoleon, don't put the puzzle away, let me finish it.''

''If that's what you want, Illya.''

''I want to frame it and hang it in our room.''

''Our room, Illya?''

''This room, our room.''

''It was _my_ room, is this your very own Decree on Land?''

''Property is theft''

''So the placards tell me and you are mixing your ideologies.''

''Corrupting influence of the West. A slippery slope. Soon I shall be chewing bubble gum and buying things I don't need, because they are newer than last year's things I didn't need.''

''You are a cynic, my friend.''

''I am a Russian.''

''Same thing.''

''I have recently become a happy Russian.''

''Have you, Illya? Truly? Tell me.''

Illya hauled himself into a sitting position and punctuated each of his next words with a kiss ''A...very...happy...Russian.''

Napoleon's world settled itself on its new axis with a solid finality, as he grabbed his happy Russian and set about demonstrating just what made a happy American happy...and why any sensible Russian should be grateful.

 

 

END

 

 


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